


Flowerbed

by KJGooding



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alien Biology, Bajoran Culture, F/M, Honeymoon, Other, Polyamory, Queerplatonic Relationships, Tender Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:54:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29505813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KJGooding/pseuds/KJGooding
Summary: Newly married and eager to define 'family' for themselves, Ezri and Julian embark on a honeymoon trip to the most romantic spot on Bajor.  With the utmost care, Julian takes their physical differences into consideration, and Ezri helps him find new strength in his name.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Ezri Dax
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Flowerbed

Ezri realized, as she often did when she caught quiet glimpses of her husband without him being aware, that he took great pride in preparation. Even if he had since moved on from idealizing absolutely  _ everything _ , he packed the utmost care and attention into everything that came  _ before _ , everything that he needed to hold a plan in place. 

They had borrowed a runabout for their special  _ honeymoon  _ trip to Bajor, with Colonel Kira’s blessings. And Ezri was watching him replicate all kinds of little implements to help them, preparing for every scenario. It was not in the least bit salacious for her to watch him modify settings on pumps, hormone injections, all manner of little syringes and warming devices; it was simply what they needed, to be successful together. 

Since she had met him for herself, he had been unshakable. This was not a score Jadzia would’ve given him, but Dax had taken pleasure in watching him mature, shifting his self-confidence from a facade to something hard-won in a constant battle against his own insecurities. When Ezri met him, her mind and body were jumbled in more ways than one, and it was his turn to play the role of a dear friend, just a bit older and wiser, and so kind in giving his time to her. 

This, then, was a natural progression. Julian chattered a lot about his expectations for relationships, almost to the point of convincing Ezri something was wrong that he was trying to disguise. But then she recalled this was one of his traits she found most charming, and one which had taken a tragic absence during her first few months on the station. He was free to be himself again, around her, charting out their marriage and their goal of having a child together. It was not only the next logical step, but one they were both excited for. 

“The gestation period reported by most demifemale Trill,” he was rambling as he stood in front of the replicator bay, “is anywhere between five and seven-and-a-half months. I thought Cardassians were secretive about their medical files;  _ I had to run that survey myself.  _ And of course there’s no telling how Human DNA might factor into the equation! Believe me, I’ve  _ tried _ … but we will be in uncharted territory, here. But I’ve been doing my reading--”

Ezri glanced at him more intently, and he went quiet. 

“Hmm?” he asked, instead. 

“Nothing. I think it’s sweet. I just wanted to look at you, that’s all. The way your face changes.”

“Hmm, does it?” he said, blatantly charmed by the notion, “I’ve been doing my reading, and of course I know you don’t tend to  _ prefer  _ penetration, so I’ve come up with a few ways we can work around that if we need to.”

“Only as a last resort,” Ezri was insistent. 

“Yes, of course. But I  _ also  _ know marriage is a breeding ground… er, pardon the term… for compromises. While it’s important for me to have this child as  _ naturally  _ as possible, without any unnecessary intervention or modification, your comfort is equally important.”

He could be impossibly thoughtful, now, aware of his own boundaries and hers. Ezri grinned. 

“Thank you,” she said. 

“Although I  _ do  _ maintain that more Trill could come to enjoy friction if they gave it a try.”

Her lips set themselves into a skeptical pout; it did not feel like an active gesture anymore, it merely felt like interference from Dax. Perhaps this was its idea of a joke. 

“What, you don’t like our style?” she teased. 

“Oh, no, no, not at all! I mean, I do, I do like it very much, I-- Yes, I really  _ do  _ enjoy extended preparation and foreplay and, er, just… being close together. It’s very nice, indeed.”

Dax told her she’d won a point in their ongoing game, by flustering him. Jadzia had lost count, but Ezri was eager to start again, and she was already up over a hundred. With this achieved, she turned her focus over her shoulder, instead. She wanted to study the viewscreen. Autopilot was engaged and all was well, but she wanted Julian to chase her. 

As if on cue, he rushed to the seat beside her, swiveling in it so he could reach to touch her thigh. He set his hand there gently, not to intrude. 

“I adore you,” he said. “That’s all I want to prove to you this weekend.”

She was happy to look at him again, so he would know she was being honest. 

“You don’t need to prove that to me.”

***

A weekend was too long to leave their runabout orbiting aimlessly above the planet, even with the threat of war and hostility mostly dissolved. They had booked their stay at a remote cabin on an extended property with plenty of room to park the runabout, between patches of trees and the shores of the Holana River. Kira had recommended the house to them specifically, and put them in touch with its Keepers to ensure they could have private use of it for several days. 

When they landed the shuttle and disembarked, Julian was back to rambling. 

“So all these injections will do,” he said, nodding to the bag on his shoulder, and in turn the little packet of stimulants inside, “is adjust the temperature and efficacy of my sperm so it stands a better chance of adapting to its… well, its intended environment. Similarly, your injection will improve the viability of your womb so we have just a  _ fraction  _ more time to work with… those half-day-Standard cycles of yours weren’t going to work.”

“No?” she mused, “even with all the time you gave to your calculations?”

“By the time I’m done calculating, you’ll have gone dormant again,” he said, tossing his hands in playful frustration. “It’s a marvel that the Trill population isn’t steeply declining, to be honest, as particular as you lot are. Oh, here, let me help you with your bag…”

He took her suitcase from the overhead storage compartment before she could strain herself by stretching, and he took care in wheeling it along behind them as they walked away from the shuttle, calling out to the computer to secure the door. 

The path to their hostel was neatly paved with stones as smooth as glass, round and oblong and interlocked almost perfectly together. Turns were indicated with manicured flower beds, far more charming than painted or even digital street-signs. Julian had ordered a map of the Province in advance, and knew which types of flowers to look for, in order for them to find their way. Kira recommended the locale for its beauty - it was a popular romantic destination, especially as Bajor’s sovereignty and safety improved in the preceding years. The rented room, itself, was nothing legendary, but it was situated on a waterfront, and the hot springs and cascading waterfalls were the reason it was so popular. 

It was a comfortable spot, though. Ezri and Julian both marveled at how pervasively Bajorans managed to make things seem  _ cozy _ . While it had been built before the Occupation and used as a training sanctuary for a specific order of Vedeks, it had since been adapted. Clearly, it had housed refugees en masse at some point in the not-so-distant past, as evidenced by the bunk beds and thin mattresses made from woven grain-stalks, pressed into the mud floor. But, all around, there were crocheted decorations - baskets hanging from the ceiling and holding ripening fruits, blankets and shawls draped over bed posts, a woven depiction of a family caste with all its members’ names embroidered in ancient symbols and glistening metallic thread. One of the fireplaces was roaring already, upgraded to a natural-looking hologram which still gave off warmth. In addition, there were candles and clay figurines and chests full of antique jewelry, not displayed, but merely part of the atmosphere. Julian slid their suitcases beneath one of the wider bunk beds, grateful they would have the place all to themselves for the weekend. 

With this task accomplished, Julian clapped his hands together once, and subconsciously adjusted his posture enough to meet Ezri’s eye-level. 

“Well,” he said, “what would you like to do first? Other than make passionate love to one another, of course.”

Her lips parted and remained open as she scoffed. She met the intensity of his gaze with ease, posing repeated questions, each of which he dismissed with a blink and a subtle shifting of his gaze beneath. It felt like laughter, and while it was still awkwardly, indefinably  _ them _ , it was a testament to how well Julian could read her without relying on vocal cues. With the matter subliminally settled, Julian touched Ezri’s forearm and guided her to sit on the lower bunk. Then, as soon as this was done, he turned away and went snooping through the house for something resembling a replicator. 

“Something  _ light _ ,” he mumbled, as he searched. “If I were a pre-Occupation Bajoran foodservice bay,  _ where would I be _ ?”

“Actually, I…” Ezri made sure her voice was heard over the hasty opening and shutting of the heavy wood cabinets, “I didn’t mean that I was hungry. I just wanted--”

“Some rest, yes, that’s right,” Julian recited. “I could see  _ that _ .”

“I’m still kind of dizzy from the shuttle ride.”

Even though he could’ve given direction while continuing his search, being called upon by a partner was a far greater privilege. He rushed to her side with her usual hypospray cocktail already mixing in the syringe, ready to be administered as soon as it was ready. He did this against her thigh, and then helped her to recline and lie down, shuffling the provided quilt and crocheted blanket out of the way. Ezri often preferred to sleep without anything covering her, and the temperature on Bajor was even warmer than that of the station. He knew all of her preferences well, as plainly as if they were written out in the pattern of spots on her body. 

He bent and folded himself to fit into the bed compartment, too, lying on his side and looking into Ezri’s eyes, watching the discomfort in them swirl and dissolve away. 

“Ezri,  _ Silal Tasil Prohl Niaban Roan Suna Hisan... _ ” 

This  _ was  _ written in the pattern of her spots, initiated at the place her parents chose on her left shoulder for her public name, continuing down and around in a loop. Julian knew most of the sounds from memory, and traced his fingers over the places currently obscured by Ezri’s clothing. He had every intention of completing her entire name - a process that took several hours even with his predisposition to speaking quickly - while caressing each spot as he did so. Ezri caught his hand.

“Show off,” she said. 

“Oh, I intend to. Have you never considered the lyrical quality of your name? It might as well be a lullaby.”

“I’d be hard pressed to say the whole thing myself,” she said, with that alluring pout of hers. 

Julian wasted no time in kissing her lips, just as they were. 

“I’ll be gentle,” he said, intentionally playing with her words. “I think it’ll help you sleep. And both of us need our rest.”

“Okay,” she smiled.

The setting sun coated the skylight above their bed, visible through the slats of the bed-frame directly overhead, painting them both with alternate lines of light and shadow. As it descended further toward the horizon, the warmth faded from above them, and instead clung to the oblong window carved into the wall, dripping down the sill like honey. The fragrant scent of the blossoms outside came in through the gap, heightened by the heat like spices set to simmer in a pan. The soil itself carried an aroma not unlike honeysuckle-and-saffron, perfectly suited to the people who inhabited it. Bajor was beautiful this time of year, fulfilling all of the senses, invigorating them and tempting them to feel at home. 

True to his word, Julian recited Ezri’s name like poetry until both of them fell asleep. 

***

They awoke at one point in the night, at nearly the same time. The view overhead had shifted to that of constellations, white and stark lavender against the rich burgundy of the Bajoran sky. 

Their comfort had elapsed on account of their clothing; they had never changed out of the garments they traveled in. So, they helped each other undress and then enjoyed the caress of only the two blankets available on the bed, with Ezri taking the intricately woven floral shawl and Julian wrapping up in the sleek quilt. With it fastened over his shoulders and still brushing against the floor as he walked, he returned to the kitchen to find them a replicator. It wouldn’t do them any good to be achy  _ and  _ hungry the following day. 

At last he found it and - after squinting at the old Bajoran letters on the limited list of choices - ordered them a tray of crackly seed-bread and a little dish of blended chili paste and yogurt for dipping. On his way back through the winding corridor of narrow rooms, he collected a nice, waxy melon from one of the hanging fruit baskets, chipping the skin easily with his fingernail and then brushing it against his lip to take in the subtle, sweet flavor. He also made a pot of tea on the stone hob on the fireplace in the center of the house, choosing from a chest of herbal sachets left for guests to peruse. He gathered everything on a tray and smiled to himself as he noticed a little cluster of taper candles and a single electric match with which to light them. He brought some of these back with him, too, displaying them on the bedside table and lighting them while Ezri watched him, enchanted. 

They had their meal together in their chosen bed, making it feel more and more like a little home all its own. It was wide enough for both of them to sleep, with account for tossing and turning and Julian stretching his arms and legs when they started to ache from merely sitting idle. It was slightly too short, clearly built to accommodate more stacks of beds on top, to maximize the number of people fit into one room. As such, they could not sit up fully against the backboard, but they could prop themselves up well enough on their pillows, to gaze out the window together. 

Julian wrapped his arms around Ezri protectively - one at her shoulder, and the other cupping the soft flesh at her hip, where her spots widened and flared. She reciprocated, sliding both of her cold hands under the protection of Julian’s blanket to touch his tummy, sending shivers through his ribcage. He broke one of his hands away, in as much protest as he was capable of demonstrating. Ezri loved to be held by him, even if he felt the need to gesture; it did not make him feel any less  _ steady  _ to her. 

“See that?” he asked, pointing to the little window-arch in front of them.

“Hmm?” she asked for herself, lifting her head from the nest she’d made against his shoulder, so she could study his expression. 

“ _ Just there _ ,” he went on, moving his finger past the tiny peek of sky, and to an indeterminate point on the cracking plaster wall. “That’s where the wormhole is. We wouldn’t be able to see it from here, anyway, even without the beautiful Bajoran  _ fresco  _ in the way. But I know the sector anywhere.”

She smiled at him and leaned in to plant a kiss on his chin. He thought it was an unusual spot, but it was adorable and earnest in its urgency, and both of them enjoyed the softness of her lips prickled against his two-day stubble. 

“What?” he asked, both charmed and confused by the gesture. His eyelids were heavy and sagging, but the focus of his eyes was still as clear and affectionate as ever. 

“I love being with someone who’s… so sure of everything.”

“Mm, I don’t usually hear it phrased like  _ that _ .”

“I mean it. It’s  _ nice _ . Sometimes I feel like I’m not sure of anything, but I’m getting there.”

“I’ve got one for you,” he said, speaking against her temple, “we’re going to make  _ damn good  _ parents.”

“You’re right, I’m  _ positive  _ of that. I haven’t been this excited for something in I don’t know how long. And… maybe a little nervous, too.”

“Of course. That’s only natural. But I’ll be with you, every step of the way.”

***

It took effort for Julian to match his strides to Ezri’s, tapering them back and slowing them, but it was a gesture he was happy to perform. They had awoken properly in time to watch the sunrise from one of the balconies, and now they were on their march to the fabled hot springs, with intimacy on their minds and deeply ingrained in every mannerism. The whole of the preserve was theirs for the weekend - Julian had saved a good deal of his salary credits by  _ not  _ using the holosuites since he and Ezri became involved - and the shores were theirs to explore. They wore modest robes in typical Bajoran tones of mauve and rust, and Julian carried his kit of enhancements slung low over his shoulder, hiding in the billows of his robe. When Ezri reached out to take his hand, he was grateful for the distraction, an outlet for his nerves. He wove their fingers together and squeezed, and she returned the gesture as one of affirmation. 

They paced along the stone path - the same as yesterday, with different bushes painted on their illustrated map to point their way. Julian wasted no time in guiding them to the water’s edge, and the view was breathtaking. In a sense, he felt relieved to have such beauty all around him, in case he started to wear Ezri out with compliments… his mind wandered. 

Ezri stopped at the edge of the path, stepping from the neatly-sifted gravel onto the stone of the cliff-face. They could hear a waterfall rumbling somewhere beneath them, and Julian was glad to lead the way to find it. 

Spiraling down a staircase of uneven rocks, glistening wet and sparkling in the early afternoon sunshine, they found the spring itself. The waterfall fed into it, sending gentle ripples to the shore on the opposite side, where the sand looked far softer than the rocks they were walking on. The water itself was an intriguing shade of teal, crisp and clean and yet unfamiliar enough to make its depth impossible to guess. Foam collected in the currents, swirling and catching on the sand, marking the intensity of the tide. And then there was the steam, which rose from it constantly, obscuring their vision as they descended toward the sea-level. Julian felt compelled to carry Ezri in his arms the rest of the way, an offering she accepted with a giggle and a hurried nod of her head. 

He set her down again when they reached the red sands, relieved to find them as soft as they appeared. She leaned back on her arms, pressing her hands into the cakey sand, causing the foam to slip in and fill the newly-made gap. Tiny, pale-green sprouts revealed themselves as she dug into the ground, and when she noticed them, she was careful not to dislodge them. 

Julian felt like he was going to spoil the silence, but it was important to him to feel welcome in all he did. 

“Are you ready?” he asked her. 

“I’m  _ so  _ ready,” she said, with that lovely chirping laugh of hers. 

They had discussed their intentions in great detail, but to reach the brink of making them  _ reality _ overwhelmed Julian with joy. He knelt over her and kissed her forcefully,  _ passionately _ , with his hands framing her cheeks. 

When he broke contact, he cleared his throat and apologized while she watched him dig through his bag, with nothing but love and reassurance on her face. He had thought of  _ everything _ . The sudden intermission allowed him time to test the chemical balance of the water, to ensure it would not interfere with anything, as well as administer the injections they both needed to make this session more likely to be successful. Ezri watched and encouraged him, knowing what pleasure he took in the preparation, but the lag and sudden swell of hormones made every passing moment after the kiss almost  _ unbearable _ . 

She opened her robe and straddled Julian while he was aligning his hypospray against his inner thigh. Of course, he could release it without observing the entire process, and he could think of few distractions more pleasant than Ezri’s body. Trill were  _ magnificent  _ creatures, with semi-translucent skin and the faintest tint of lilac to their blood, further dramatized by the presence of a symbiont, bioluminescing underneath. Julian kissed absentmindedly at the spots near her collarbone, delighting as he picked up the smallest hitch in her breathing. She was  _ delightful  _ to overwhelm in their intimacy, because she trusted Julian and also  _ thought  _ she knew him much better than she did. He was able to surprise her with a well-placed kiss or a soft touch from his hands, especially over Dax itself. 

With his injection finished, Ezri suggested they begin by calming their nerves in the hot spring. The repetitive sound from the waterfall was relaxing, and the heat and steam from the water appealed greatly to Dax in particular. Julian shed his robe safely past the tideline then rushed into the pool, holding Ezri’s hand and dragging her along with him. 

Dax had always been counted as an equal in their intimate moments, and it made Julian feel more confident now that Ezri could voice its thoughts separately from hers. They were usually similar, but Dax’s were somewhat simpler and more passionate. This was evident in the water, as Ezri felt it buzzing happily, and got the same impression from Julian as she kissed him. Their relationship, he realized as he thought again of his charts and ongoing calculations, did not pass as a conventional one; this made him pause and confirm with Ezri that all was well. 

“Definitely,” she said, excitable tone underwritten by Dax. “I want to do this, and not just because it’s our next step together, okay?”

And so, they began. There was no further need for preamble, and no time to waste. Trill were delicate and slow-moving in these matters, and Julian was already mentally cycling backward through his calculations to ensure everything would work out the way he planned. Ezri could read this moment of hesitation on his face. 

“You’re wondering how long it takes?” she asked, smiling at him. 

He nodded, careful not to move too forcefully as she positioned herself. 

“You’ll have to do the honors,” she said, before leaning in close and adding, in a whisper, “we usually just… say each other’s names.  _ Julian Subatoi Bashir _ . There, your turn.”

Julian was glad to oblige, tracing his fingers over some of the more interesting shapes as he vocalized them, feeling more confident each time he heard Ezri’s breathing change, or felt her arch her back against his bracing touch. He had memorized her name, so he did not need to move beyond her comfort, nor submerge himself in the water as he continued down the wider spots at her belly. He swept across them with gentle fingers, and Ezri responded far more dramatically, gasping and rolling her head forward, breathing deeply. 

“ _ Vaes Ashiva Siyeh--  _ Sometimes I forget Dax was a gymnast,” he observed, once they were well into the ritual. 

“Hmm?” she asked, looking up at him with heavy eyes. 

“Are you  _ sure _ this is comfortable?”

"Trill are predisposed to fluidity," she mumbled. "Or, um, flexibility...?"

Ezri had one leg hooked around his waist, and the other stretching to reach the murky sand at the base of the pool, where the water was deepest. Julian could stand easily, and was glad to keep her steady. Maybe it was less like gymnastics and more like dancing, which Julian could concede to as comfortable in its own right. They simply stood there, moving in unison against the tide, clutching each other tight and rotating slowly - Julian on the pads of his feet, Ezri with all of her weight confined to her tiptoes. Julian kept one hand pressed to Dax for the duration, with the other gently massaging at the back of Ezri’s neck, and occasionally reaching up to muss her hair, as it collected the seafoam. 

They remained interlocked in this peaceful way for over an hour, Standard. The internal process was a long one, involving the expansion and contraction of the oviduct and viability of the pouch Trill of all genders relied on to develop their young; sometimes it was easy to reach, and more often, it was not. Julian feared ruining the magic of the moment, but he knew their window of opportunity was closing. 

“I think we’d best return to dry land,” he suggested. 

Ezri understood and agreed, and welcomed him to carry her back to the shore, breaking contact as little as possible. He placed her down in the sand, relieved to see her smiling up at him all the while. The tide crept up behind them, lapping at his ankles, filling in the outline Ezri’s body made. Still, he could hear the soft rumbling of the waterfall, and the rush of air and hot steam carried the faint scent of pine needles from the forest above them. They were shrouded almost completely in shadow from the tall trees, and Julian thought it was  _ sublime _ , far more exhilarating than even the most realistic holoprogram. 

With permission once again granted by Ezri, Julian achieved the friction he had been aching for. He was gentle and slow, and took his greatest pleasure in placing hovering kisses over Dax, before moving up and repeating the affection for Ezri, along her cheeks, neck, and at last her lips. She was trembling and clinging tight to his arms, letting Dax feed her some of its memories. Oh, Julian did not compare as far as its past torrid love affairs had gone, but Ezri didn’t see that as a bad thing. It was simply  _ different,  _ but no less special or enjoyable. She had found someone confident, who welcomed her with open arms. What was a good partner, if not someone steadfast to hold onto while the waves broke against you, she wondered.

Having performed the requirements of his role, Julian withdrew and moved to straddle Ezri’s chest instead. This was a more common feature in their intimacy; he would settle between her breasts, enjoying gentle friction from her, and allowing Dax a chance to experience the aftershocks more closely. As sensitized as he was, Julian swore he could feel Dax responding, quivering and glowing brightly through Ezri’s skin. 

He had been so focused on remaining  _ still  _ for her, for the duration of this session, but he preferred to make his affection known with gestures. 

Julian moved further still, brushing their noses together, then planting impossibly soft kisses over her eyelids. When he pulled back, he noticed these had seeded and grown into tears. 

Urgently, he brushed these away and asked if he had hurt her. He would gladly undertake all of the preparation again if a different method would make her more comfortable; he would not count their intimacy as a loss even if it had not satisfied their objective. Oh, he had enjoyed it, but if he had  _ hurt her _ …

“No, not at all,” Ezri assured him. “I think… I think that was it.”

Julian furrowed his brow, assuming she meant to express she was aware of her dormancy, now. 

“Don’t worry, darling. We can try again tomorrow,” he said, caressing her cheek. “I can get a sample into the syringe and frozen so you can use it  _ precisely  _ when you need it, and--”

“No, I mean…  _ that was it _ . Dax let me know the  _ moment  _ it happened. And it would know, wouldn’t it?”

Julian’s first inclination was to kiss her, overjoyed. Then he gathered their robes from their pile in the sand, shaking them clean before bundling up Ezri first, then himself. He knelt there on the ground and held her in his lap, continuing to kiss her as a way to stall all the different lines of thought occurring to him simultaneously. 

“I think it has a better idea what’s going on in there than most,” he said, playfully trailing a finger from Dax’s anchor-point on her chest and further down her abdomen. “But you’ll have to take its word, for the time being - I’m afraid it’s too early for me to run any kind of test with certainty.”

He pressed his forehead to hers, and the two of them took turns giggling at each other, overcome with joy and running out of ways to express it. Julian let some of the feeling seep out to his fingertips, and he pressed them into the spots on Ezri’s sides and midsection at random. 

“I trust it,” Ezri affirmed. “And it trusts us.”

“Well, it had  _ better _ ,” Julian was elated, and returned to speaking quickly. “It’s not going to find a more devoted set of parents for quite a few more lifetimes, I’d say. Now, let’s get you to bed.”

With laughter as her only argument, Julian stood and scooped her up in his arms, bending her knees over one and keeping her head and shoulders comfortably reclined against the other. He carried her the entire way to their rented cabin, pleased to watch the fragrant falling blossoms and the warm sunshine lull her to sleep before they’d even reached the gates.

When he tucked her into the bed, giving her the whole thing and both blankets, she opened her eyes and blinked at him, as if through a haze. He patted her arm and then climbed the ladder to situate himself on the bunk over hers. His mattress was thinner and narrower, and left him space to peer down at her through the revealed slats. 

“Just rest,” he advised, kindly. “We’ll celebrate tomorrow.”

She fell asleep again in no time at all, leaving Julian to peer down at her, awestruck and brimming with love, in their own unconventional way. 

***

Ezri awoke with the cool, dewy morning breeze wafting in from the open balcony doors, to one side of the bedroom. Julian was sitting outside, and had already gone through the trouble of putting together breakfast from the limited replicator menu, mixing and matching items into a tray they might have seen on any Bajoran’s table at the replimat in recent years. These were cultural staples, comfort foods, and that was a sense he longed to share with Ezri for as long as their brief excursion lasted, and for the rest of their lives together. He was working through a bowl of steamed rice pudding, and reading from an older Bajoran-built device propped against one knee. 

She wandered out to meet him, pulling one of the cushioned, low-slung seats in close to his side. Without a word, he offered her the platter, smiling his typical exhausted smile as she took one of the pastries. He looked as though he had stayed up all night providing extra attention to a patient - Ezri knew the look well, and recognized herself as its cause and the recipient of the underlying emotion. 

“Hi,” she said quietly, running her hand through her hair a lot like he did when he was nervous. “What are you reading?”

“Good morning,” he returned the greeting, now focused on  _ not  _ becoming a conventional, at-time-aloof husband. He pointed at several lines of the Bajoran text in excitable succession, “I promised a celebration, didn’t I? These are some of the services the House Attendants offer to guests. We have what sounds to me like a fondue tray coming at 1400, and I ordered some aromatherapeutic balms for a nice bath, later, and then I thought…”

He trailed off, with his finger hovering over one of the line items, blocking it from Ezri’s view. She scooted in closer, picking up his hand and holding it tight, as an excuse to clear the screen. 

“ _ Velle’pagh, _ ” she read. “What’s that one? Something- _ Soul _ , right?”

“Tattoo,” Julian supplied. “I was reading the description, and they sound  _ fascinating _ , if it would be something appropriate for us to do as Non-Bajorans…”

“What did you learn?” Ezri asked, looking entranced. 

She was so good at encouraging him to speak freely, now that they were comfortable together. And she looked so  _ cozy  _ and inviting, wrapped up in both of the blankets from the bed, with the crocheted flowers revealing little glimpses of the sleek silver underneath. Julian had packed his favorite pajamas to wear, and his breakfast was delicious, and the air was warm and sweet, and his wife was looking at him expectantly. There was no reason not to feel confident with the topic, even though he had only  _ just  _ broached it himself. 

“Soul tattooing is undertaken privately,” he explained, glancing at the description on his screen. “Essentially, you have a visible representation of your soul - the earring most Bajorans wear - and then private pieces that inspire you when you need to call upon them for strength. You can have the same image re-applied, or you can let it fade and replace it with something else in the future. And it sounds as though it’s common as part of fertility rituals; Bajorans have a long matriarchal tradition, and births are an event all their own.”

“Oh,” Ezri said, already entertaining the possibility. “But what kind of symbol would I get?”

“We can confer with the artist,” Julian assured. “They’re meant to take a quick inventory of our  _ soul _ before applying a single brush stroke. Doesn’t that sound remarkable?”

“If we’re allowed to, I’d  _ love  _ to try it.”

“I’ll call them and see.”

They continued eating their breakfast while Julian did this, initiating a communication protocol on the reading device itself. The attendant welcomed their questions and their participation in the ritual, and booked them an appointment late that evening. Leisurely, their celebration became a nap together in the sunshine, then a long, intimate shower with the special oils Julian ordered, and then a freshly made meal at the end of the day. The attendant came to see them that evening, asking them questions, congratulating them on their marriage, and touching at their ears to confirm her initial impressions. She settled on special designs for each of them, and applied her paint with Julian and Ezri laying on one of the grain-mattresses on the floor, eyes covered with cloth until the process was complete. 

***

Just as he had unpacked for her, Julian gladly volunteered to lift Ezri’s suitcase into the overhead compartment. She knew he was prone to gestures like this  _ anyway _ , even if she did assume he would become more and more insistent on performing them as her pregnancy progressed. But it was nice to feel cared about, for a change. 

She packed a loose, flowing tunic for the ride home, and it rose to reveal her midriff as she passed Julian the suitcase. This made him rush to complete the job, so he could stoop at her side and admire her  _ velle-pagh _ . The artist had done a magnificent job, he thought, in giving him another legitimate excuse to look lovingly at his partner. 

Low on Ezri’s belly, beneath the redundant line of skin which would have allowed access to her pouch if she were several centuries back in her species’ evolution, and which replaced the navel on a human, the artist had painted a patch of flowers. All different colors and varieties, from several different spots on the map of the preserve. But now, instead of marking destinations on a digital directory, it indicated the hope for  _ growth _ , within the place it decorated. Neither of them had made mention of the pregnancy - it was still too early to confirm, anyway - but the attendant took this desire as an obvious one, in her reading of Ezri’s soul. It made Julian feel even better about their decisions, and he swelled with pride as he stared at it, now. Sprawling vines and bright purple blossoms, tucked cleverly between her spots… 

Ezri indulged his stare for several minutes, and welcomed him to touch it. 

“I think the ink is dry by  _ now _ ,” she said. 

“Mm, I’m sure it is. But if I don’t input the coordinates for home  _ now _ , I don’t know when I ever will.”

He kissed the little flap of skin, the wonderful canvas, before standing up again and tending to the controls. Once this was done and the computer was describing their ascent through the planet’s atmosphere, Ezri went to sit with Julian in the pilot’s seat. 

She slid into his lap with casual familiarity, and in turn he set one hand over her shoulder, determined to give her a fair share of his attention while typing away at the control pad. 

“Only if you let me see yours, too,” she said. 

Julian had ordered a Bajoran tunic from the list of available provisions, especially chosen to accommodate his tattoo. The fabric was silky and did not threaten to rub away the ink before it was set, and the collar was cut at an asymmetrical angle, leaving half of his collarbone exposed, and just the faintest peek of the artwork. 

The artist had asked him, ‘where is the human heart?’ and Ezri, from beneath her blindfold, felt compelled to point out the spot for him, finding his hand there already. They had giggled to each other, and rolled briefly onto their sides to exchange a kiss, while the attendant cooed at them and declared her design  _ perfect _ . 

There was no disagreement from Ezri, nor from Julian. With her cold fingers dipping inquisitively beneath Julian’s shirt-collar, she rolled the fabric down enough to reveal the picture. 

Trill spots. A single line of them in a wide font, blue to match the majority of Ezri’s flowers. The artist did not know them to be a language, but that was the beauty of phonetics: Ezri could read a word from them, regardless. She traced over them with her fingers, as Julian was so prone to doing on hers. 

“My turn?” she asked, making a curious pout only to answer the question for herself. “It must be. Julian Subatoi Bashir, Rozau Nilun Zhes Keteya Tujul.”

“Mm, not nearly as  _ arduous  _ as yours,” he teased. 

“No, but I think it’s perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a 'deleted scene' which has been chasing its tail in my mind since I first wrote Instrument of Grace. I had always wanted Dax to be the one to perceive the moment of conception - it's been so amazing for me to write about Rali as an autistic girl who was loved and accepted since *before she was born* so this piece, of course, focused more on love than sex. I think Ezri and Julian are quite good for that; showcasing an unconventional but still powerful connection. 
> 
> I'm also glad I wrote this after finishing the series, so I could really give them a chance to connect to Bajor and some aspects of its culture. Uniting them, Trill, and to a lesser extent Cardassia has been great fun. I love to focus on non-Federation parts of the Trek universe :) 
> 
> Anyway I hope you've enjoyed this and found it a comforting respite. Thank you for reading.


End file.
